


Isaac

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fitzsimmons Week, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kinda, More Like Extreme Robot Babysitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as Simmons is recovered from the Kree rock, the team discovers a child-like robot with biological components. Naturally, Fitz & Simmons are tasked with caring for him. Things get a liiittle domestic.</p><p>For FitzSimmons Week Day 3: Firsts/Lasts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isaac

"Sir," Simmons asked, struggling a little with the bulky equipment case, "what is it that you . . . oh!" She gaped at the little guy sitting at Coulson's feet. "Fitz! you've got to see this!"

It was about the size of a three-year-old child, with a shining silver exoskeleton. In spaces between the expanse of metal, Simmons could clearly see bright blue sacs that seemed to be filled with some sort of liquid.

"Organs?" 

"I'm coming, Simmons! Why do you have to—what?"

Fitz seemed stupefied by the sight. 

"It looks like we have an 0-8-4 on our hands," Coulson said, folding his arms and frowning. "Some sort of robot with organic components?" He looked over at the two scientists, and waited for a moment in silence before giving an exasperated, "FitzSimmons."

"I think I'm in love," said Fitz, earning him a back-handed slap from Simmons. He scowled at her. "I didn't mean  _that_  kind of love."

"Well, I'm pleased that you like it, Agent Fitz," Coulson said, his frown melting into a knowing grin. "Because we'll have to take it with us."

* * *

They got straight to work the moment the 0-8-4 was safely on the quinjet. Both Fitz and Simmons were in possession of their diagnostic equipment before a word was spoken, and Simmons gave Fitz a questioning glance. He nodded in response, and they dove in.

"The outer shell seems to be made of—hold on—vibranium? Or a vibranium alloy?"

"Well," said Simmons, "it looks like these exposed sections are indeed artificial organs of some kind." She pointed to a blue sac underneath the bot's left arm. "That seems to be functioning like some form of liver."

"Odd place for a liver," observed Fitz.

"It'd be an odd place for _your_  liver," Simmons countered. "We've never seen life like this; it's hard to tell what's normal."

Fitz snapped his gaze onto her. "Life?" He folded his arms and stared the thing down. "Whatever this is, it isn't life." He cocked his head. "It's adorable though; I'll give you that."

"Iss adowable."

Both agents snapped their attention to the bot, who peered up at them with blinking eyes. Fitz pointed a finger at it as his jaw fell open.

"Did he just?"

Fitz traded a look with Simmons, who seemed just as shocked. "I . . . think he did."

The two stared at each other for a few moments before simultaneously turning back to the bot.

"It's capable of mimicking speech," Simmons thought aloud, "so it's a possibility that it's also capable of-"

"Independent thought? You think it's sentient?" Fitz put two hands on his lower back and frowned. "It's possible that it just repeats what it hears, Jemma. Still . . ." His lips curled into an almost-fatherly smile. "Those were pretty good first words."

And if Jemma didn't know any better, she'd say that Fitz looked proud of the little guy.

* * *

It was a few hours later when Jemma found herself taking a swig of beer and wincing.

"Fitz and I started dating  _last week,_  Skye. I'm still getting used to being back, and I just . . . I don't know if we can do this."

Skye gave an incredulous look. "You're not sure if you can take care of a robot baby with your engineer boyfriend."

"He's hardly my boyfriend."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "You  _are_  dating him, aren't you? Exclusively?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Sorry to tell you this, Simmons, but you have a boyfriend. A super cute, _super_  adorable, hot-in-scruff, engineer boyfriend who is head-over-heels in love with you. I'm not so sure what you're upset about."

Simmons too another swig. "Yes, but . . . hang on,  _in love with me_? That's . . . that's going a bit far, Skye. I mean, we're . . . we've been friends for a long time, but  . . ."

"Oh, come on, Jemma. He drove himself crazy trying to get you out of that rock. And you're just as in love with him, so I don't see the point of denying it." Skye watched Jemma as the biochemist started to get a little color in her cheeks. "Look, if anyone can handle a robot, it's you two. And if you don't feel comfortable going fast, then don't."

Jemma sighed. "It's that simple, is it?"

"Well, I wouldn't really know," admitted Skye with a wink, "that's not really a problem of mine."

* * *

"How's he doing?"

Jemma's bright smile was met with a bitter frown.

"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much, taking care of everything while you go off and have a drink with your girlfriends."

He folded his arms and glared at her, but he did it in a way that was so adorable that she couldn't help but smile back.

"It was only with Skye, and it was only half a beer. You can have the rest, if you want."

Fitz appeared unmoved. "Well, I'm not sure why you think I'd want your leftovers."

She wasn't sure if it was Fitz's adorable little frown, Skye's words, or the beer (though really, it was only a few sips), but Jemma found herself saying, "You don't want to share with me?" in a way that almost sounded . . . flirtatious.

And if the redness in Fitz's ears were any indication, he'd taken it exactly as she'd almost meant it. It was certainly enough to melt his frown into a kind of smirk that was a great improvement to his face in general.

"Well," he said, pulling at his ear, "the little tyke hasn't been too bad. I've been trying to get an idea of how he works, but that's almost impossible to do without risking, um, you know . . ."

"Hurting him?" she offered.

"Well, no, because it's not alive, of course, but it, uh, you don't want to, to interrupt any of its . . . operations."

"Operations," she repeated, smiling. "Right."

"And I'd give it an MRI, only it wouldn't work, because of the, the, uh . . ."

"Metal? Yes, I agree. An MRI would shred him to bits."

Fitz rolled his eyes at her, "Jemma, you can't possibly think—"

"Jem-ma," said the bot, surprising both Fitz and Simmons.

"He said my name," Simmons cooed, and if she didn't know better, she'd say that Fitz looked a bit jealous.

"Well, he should be calling you 'Simmons,' since you're not his g-, um, his best friend."

She somehow found the courage to come up beside him and place her hand just next to where he'd laid his on the counter. "Well then," she said, "it seems like you'd better call me that, if you want him to learn."

His eyes were fixed on their hands, and the distance between them was so small that even the slightest twitch of his pinky would send it colliding into hers.

"Well, Jemma," he said, "I wouldn't go that far."

 She couldn't help but beam at him.

* * *

 "Is it hungry? It's probably hungry. Or thirsty?"

The bot had started emitting shrill sound a minute or two earlier. Fitz mumbled something about it being more like a smoke alarm than a baby's cry, while Simmons scrambled about the lab for something that might be edible for the little guy.

"I don't know, Fitz, maybe he wants you to hold him."

Simmons glanced his way as she sifted through drawers, and his eyes were as wide as she'd ever seen them.

"Hold him? I can't hold him."

"It's just a robot, Fitz; you said it yourself. Are you saying that you don't know how to handle a robot?"

"Of course not," Fitz protested, "it's just that . . ." He looked up at Simmons in pure desperation.

"Yes?"

Fitz shook his head and groaned. "Never mind, I've got him."

Even in her frenzied search, she couldn't help but smile when she saw that he wasn't really holding the bot—he was cradling it. She wasn't surprised at all when the shrieking stopped.

"He likes you," she breathed, overcome with awe. Fitz had started rocking the bot back an forth in his arms.

"Yeah," he replied, "I guess so."

The bot let out a different kind of sound then, a sort of gurgling that echoed the joy in her heart.

"I guess so, Fitz."

* * *

Simmons woke up early in a panic, realizing that she'd gone to bed before figuring out what their 0-8-4 ate, and how long had it been since his last meal? She threw some clothes on and almost ran down to the lab to find that Fitz was already there.

"Fitz," he said, pointing a finger at his chest. "Fi-itz. Fitz."

He was so focused on the bot that Jemma was able to sidle up beside him and make him jump at least three feet when she bid him a good morning. Fitz tried to sputter out some kind of explanation, or maybe he was cursing—Jemma was laughing too much to tell. She had to steady herself with a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to help her with a hand to her waist, and suddenly they were face to face in their pajamas. She put her free hand on his other shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes. When his other hand found its way to her waist, there really was nothing to laugh about. 

"Fitz?"

"Hmm?"

She looked away, feeling that she was looking into the sun. "Fitz, I—"

"Fiss," said the bot.

Fitz broke into a grin so wide that Jemma found herself laughing into his shoulder, and when his arms encircled her, she thought that early mornings such as these would be something to look forward to. 

"Fiss," the bot repeated.

"Fitz," she corrected, looking once more into his eyes.

"Fiss."

"Ah, well," said Fitz, shrugging, "that's close enough, don't you think, Jemma?"

"Jem-ma."

She caught herself laughing a few times, and by the way his chest rumbled against her cheek, she could tell that Fitz was laughing, too. When the laughter died down, Jemma didn't even think before she stepped on her toes to kiss him, but he backed away.

"We, um," he said, "we should find a name for him."

"Oh! Right." her hands slipped off of him, and she felt a blush in her cheeks. They hadn't even talked about this; how could she get so carried away? "Well, it's too bad he's obviously a boy, otherwise we could call him 'Rosie.'"

"After Rosie from the Jetsons?" he asked and she nodded. "Well, how about Isaac? You know, after Isaac Asimov?"

She dared to take his hand and squeeze it. "I think Isaac," she said, "wants some breakfast. Care to help me figure out what to feed him?" 

"Wouldn't miss it," he replied.

It was almost two hours later when Simmons finally declared their duty done, as the lab was a mess and Isaac had actually eaten a spoonful of smashed peas. All the other things they'd tried to feed him—carrots, peaches, several glucose compounds, and even the motor oil that Simmons vetoed—now decorated the counter tops, chairs, and frustrated scientists. When Fitz was able to get a few more spoonfuls of peas down, and the base itself started coming to life, Simmons assigned the tidying to the first lab tech who walked through the door. The second lab tech was lucky enough to get custody of Isaac as FitzSimmons scurried off to get a shower and possibly a nap.

After all, isn't that what lab techs were for?

* * *

"That isn't what lab techs are for," said Coulson, "and honestly, you should know better than that."

Simmons looked to Fitz, who folded his hands and straightened in his chair.

"Sir, Simmons and I felt that our, our breakthrough in determining the—"

"Yes, you fed it, I heard. Congratulations." Coulson flipped through one of the many file folders on his desk. "We're still trying to track down the origin of the 0-8-4. Something that advanced had to come from somewhere, and you can bet they'll want it back. We have to be prepared."

"Yes sir," said Fitz. "But it's Isaac, sir."

"Hmm?"

"We gave him a name," Simmons clarified.

That earned them an appraising look from Coulson.

"You gave the 0-8-4 a name?"

"Yes, sir," said Simmons, at the same time Fitz said, "Of course."

"Okay, I guess there's a first time for everything. Speaking of . . ." He looked from Fitz to Simmons. "Is there anything else that I should know about? Between you two?"

Neither of them dared to look at the other as an unbearable silence permeated the room.

"Well then," Coulson said after an excruciating minute, "I guess you're dismissed."

* * *

"Maybe he's about to explode."

"Ugh, Fitz!"

"Well, he could be."

"He's _crying_ , Fitz. Besides, _you're_ the engineer. How exactly do you expect him to combust?"

"He could be a biological weapon. Perfectly disguised as an adorable child."

" _Fitz_."

"No one would think that a baby would detonate, Jemma!"

Simmons yawned and grabbed Fitz's wrist to check his watch.

"Ugh. Two AM. I'm supposed to be awake in three hours."

Fitz eyed her suspiciously. "You have to be awake, or—"

"You know how productive I am in the mornings!"

"Yeah," he said, suppressing a yawn of his own, "so you say, but, I think you're most productive when I'm around."

Jemma rolled her eyes. "Am I, then?" She challenged him with a glare, and his jaw dropped in mock offense.

" _Of course_ you're more productive when I'm there. I'm your partner. I help with . . . things."

"Things, huh?" Jemma sighed partially at Fitz, and partially at the headache she had from Isaac's screeching. "You're more of a distraction than anything."

They didn't think it possible, but the screeching got an octave higher. Fitz put his hands over his ears. "What do you mean, I'm a distraction? I'm the best engineer you've ever _met_ , not to mention the only one that ever managed to keep up with you."

Jemma groaned, then grabbed a lead-lined apron and draped it over Issac. Once the sound was at least partially muffled, she pulled Fitz's hands down to his waist.

"Well, how am I supposed to work, when you're just standing there with your sleeves rolled up!" She stopped her yelling when she saw the softness in his eyes, a kind of wonder that made her heart stop, and she swallowed. She looked down to see that she was still holding his hands. "And, uh," she continued, quietly, "well, when did you become rubbish at shaving?"

She didn't dare look at him until he said nothing at all, and she simply had to look up into his eyes to find that he had an odd sort of smirk on his face. The way he looked down at her made her knees melt. She was sure that this moment, when they were so tired they could barely stand up straight, would be the moment when his lips finally captured hers, and he leaned forward until he was closer, closer and then—

"Wait, what's wrong?'

She was so surprised by the question that she almost fell over. But there was something wrong, because the lab was . . . quiet.

They both turned in unison to the muffled robot, and the moment she noticed that he wasn't moving, she heard him gasp.

"OH NO, WE'VE KILLED IT!"

Fitz leapt forward, throwing the apron off Isaac in an instant. Jemma found it impossible to breathe.

"Fitz, is he?"

She was sure she was about to have a heart attack until he looked down at Isaac and smiled.

"He's asleep, Jemma," he said, looking up at her. "Or in, uh, hibernation, or something."

She padded up beside Fitz and took in the way little Isaac breathed. Somehow, it was the most peaceful thing.

"Fitz," she whispered, "you can't possibly think he's a bomb, can you?"

She almost gasped when she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

"No," he said, leaning his head on top of hers, "of course not."

Jemma was just about to think that she could definitely get used to this when Fitz must have realized what he'd just done, because he sprang apart from her and almost toppled over a chair.

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered. "You, uh, we all should go to bed. Don't you think?"

She should have been disappointed, but she didn't have place for anything but warmth in her heart. Instead, she cocked her head and smiled at him.

* * *

 Fitz's tongue stuck out between his lips, and Jemma found that she was barely able to think.

"Jemma?"

"Hmm?"

"You need to stand over there, so he can walk over to you."

"Oh! Right!"

She scrambled into place and held her arms out. "Come on, Isaac!"

Isaac smiled. "Jemma," he said.

It was then that Jemma truly understood what Fitz had meant about being in love.

Fitz held onto Isaac's hands to support them, and Isaac floundered a bit in a bid to move forward. His eyes, though, never left her. He finally threw one of his feet forward and landed it, and Jemma thought she'd never been more proud of anything in her life. She was so excited that she didn't notice Coulson entering the lab until he cleared his throat behind her, and she jumped.

"Uh, sir?"

She didn't have to wait for his apology to know that it was bad news.

* * *

"I can't believe that this is the last time we'll ever see him."

Fitz looked absolutely dreadful, and Jemma was sure she felt worse. They'd only known Isaac for a few days, and somehow it was like losing a limb.

"He's going to a better place, Fitz. The scientists who created him will give him a much better home than we could."

They stood in silence for a moment as men and women in white coats powered Isaac down (who knew he had an "off" button?) and carefully packed him away.

His fingers twined with hers, steadying her.

"We'll have kids some day, won't we?"

"Of course we will, Fitz."

"Good."

He put his arm around her, and she pulled him in tighter, too distracted by Isaac's departure to realize what they'd just said. But as sad as it was, she felt a kind of rightness in it. It was as if they were always meant to say goodbye to him like this.

"Well, at least we'll get some decent sleep tonight."

She gave him a small smile. "Yes, finally."

They both laughed then, and she found herself looking looked up at him. And maybe it was the way the light hit his features, or the way he's been by her side from the beginning, but something made her stand on her toes and kiss him.

The kiss was short, but tender, and when she pulled away, she could see stars in Fitz's eyes.

And when she realized that it was the last first kiss she would ever have, she was very pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> I regularly post sneak peeks and general ramblings about my writing on [my tumblr](http://agent-85.tumblr.com/tagged/Writings%20of%20Agent%2085).


End file.
